


Extraneous Variables

by error404_happinessnotfound



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, College, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/error404_happinessnotfound/pseuds/error404_happinessnotfound
Summary: Life is full of the unneeded, the excess, the extraneous.The unnecessary, the quickly forgotten, those that serve no purpose -And yet they exist, silently, never asking for a second glance, never expecting the first.Youngjae wondered what it would feel liketo be neededto be part of the wholeto be necessary.Instead, he was just another extraneous variable.





	1. i.

Going from the small town of Mokpo to the bustling city of Seoul was a big change for Youngjae, one he honestly wasn't sure that he was ready for, but...

...but, he was here, surrounded by boxes with  _Choi Youngjae, 206E_  written on them in heavy black sharpie. His mom and dad were already in their car on their way back to Mokpo, and he was starting to wish that he were in the backseat with them. He didn't feel ready to be here in a new place with people he'd never met, but it was too late now to do anything.

Youngjae sighed as he turned his head down to scan the six large boxes and various miscellaneous items surrounding him in a semi-circle. He was on the second floor of the east wing of the dorm, which meant that he had two options: fight for elevator space, or take the stairs. Even if he  _did_  snag a ride on the elevator, he still had to carry the box from the middle of the building to the end of his wing, whereas the stairs let out right next to his room.

Stairs it was, then.

He bent down, his dad's firm  _Lift with your legs, not your back_  reminder playing through his mind as he hefted up one of the large boxes, wobbling slightly as he adjusted to the weight before he straightened back up, already feeling his arms start to shake.

_I shouldn't have packed all of my books into one box,_  he groaned to himself, but it was done, and his only option now was to lug it up the stairs as fast as possible before his arms snapped off.

Youngjae staggered toward the door, hoping halfheartedly that someone would come out from inside and hold the door open for him, but no one did. Two boys ran past Youngjae, laughing among themselves as they slid a key card and went inside, and Youngjae tried to speed up to catch the door, but he got there just as it clicked shut.

_Dang it,_  Youngjae thought to himself, automatically censoring his thoughts. He knew that everyone here was legally an adult and that everyone would likely be swearing quite a bit, but he'd grown up in a town where that wasn't okay, and it was hard to change old habits, even if he wanted to. Not that he did.

Another student approached the door, sliding their key card, the one Youngjae realized that he hadn't picked up yet, and went in ahead of Youngjae.

_Couldn't he hold it open for me?_  Youngjae thought to himself, frowning, before the door swung outward of its own accord, and Youngjae stared at the boy's back with his mouth hanging open lightly, realizing that he must have gone inside to hit the handicapped button to open the door automatically.

"Thank-" Youngjae began, but the boy was already gone.

Youngjae swallowed his words and waddled inside, making his way up the stairs and finally depositing his box outside a door marked 206E. He still hadn't grabbed his key card, so the best he could do for now was just to put all his boxes next to his room and hope that nobody stole anything. Not that there was anything valuable in the boxes, just items that held sentimental value to Youngjae himself.

He heard talking from inside his dorm room, but he decided to grab more boxes before announcing his presence to his roommates.

He was on his way back down the stairs when the two boys from earlier passed him again, taking stairs two or three at a time and jumping to the landing from five steps up, sprinting around the corner and dashing out the door. Youngjae didn't understand how they had so much energy. He was tired from just carrying the one box.

_Five more to go..._

_And then the microwave..._

_And my shelf..._

_And my lamp..._

_And..._

***

An hour and a half later, Youngjae stood panting outside the door to his door room, recently acquired key card in his right hand while a box of framed photographs rested on his left hip. Over the past ninety minutes, he'd discovered two things about college life: that he never wanted to take the stairs again, and that nobody paid attention to anybody else.

The latter was both good and bad, he supposed; people could dress however they wanted or sleep in public or do all sorts of crazy things that he would never be caught dead doing and no one would bat an eye, but the downside of it all was that college kids in Seoul were a million times less likely to extend a helping hand than anyone from his kind hometown. He'd stood at the door for a good four minutes with his box of kitchen supplies before anyone held it open for him, and even then, then only held it long enough to him to get within the door's range, leaving him to hold it open with his hip while he navigated himself inside the door frame.

He missed Mokpo.

More than that, he missed his family, but he really did miss Mokpo, all the familiar faces and what seemed like snoopy people who really cared about him.

Here, no one cared about him.

The only reason anyone would know his name was because it was written on his boxes, it was on the student ID beneath the key card in his hand, or because it was taped onto the door.

The door, that he still was reluctant to open.

_How long can I avoid meeting my roommates?_  he wondered to himself in dread before shaking his head.  _I shouldn't think like that. I'm a little nervous, sure, but I'm excited to make new friends. I'm sure it won't be as bad as I'm making it_ _out to be_ _._

After another moment or two, he slid his key card into the door, typed in his PIN, and entered his new home.

***

The two boys who had been running back and forth past him all day were in the kitchen, playing tug-of-war with a bottle of dish soap, the taller one holding it up, although the shorter one had one hand on the bottom.

Youngjae caught a flash of someone's arm in the doorway to the far right, hanging a picture up on the wall, but he hadn't heard the door and hadn't seen Youngjae, so Youngjae decided to introduce himself to the two in the kitchen first before tackling his third and last roommate.

"Hello," he said, immediately second-guessing himself.  _Too formal? Should I have just said "Hi"? Or "Hiya"? No, that's gross, who even says "Hiya"? Maybe "Hey"? But that sounds sort of callous..._ He shook his head slightly, convincing himself that it was beside the point to worry about it now. "I'm Choi-"

The bottle of dish soap flew through the air toward Youngjae, who just stood there, his reflexes too slow to move, before hitting the wall, the loose cap immediately popping off and rolling somewhere under the kitchen counters as the dish soap landed on the box in Youngjae's arms, soap pouring out from the bottle and beginning to coat the box in a sticky blue mess.

"Jaebum! You let the bottle slip!" the shorter one yelled at the taller of the two, who rolled his eyes.

"You're the one who yanked on it so hard!"

The two bickered back and forth good-naturedly as the soap began seeping into the cardboard, and Youngjae hesitated, thinking that his roommates would a) acknowledge his presence before b) apologizing for spilling their soap all over him and then proceed to c) help him clean it up or at least set the box down for a moment.

Only maybe they weren't too familiar with the English alphabet, because none of those three things happened. Instead, they teased each other a bit more before mock-punching each other and laughing as Youngjae hauled his box into the only empty room. It looked to be the smallest of the four, and the window had a spectacularly lovely view of the brick wall from the next hallway over.

A far cry from the room Youngjae shared with his brother with two windows that overlooked the field behind his house.

He set the box down on his bed before shoving his key card and ID into his back pocket so he didn't lose them. Then he looked down to see if any of the soap had gotten onto his t-shirt (which it had) and resolved to wash it (if and when he got his laundry card).

Then he headed back into the common living area to try to introduce himself for the second time.

When he saw that they were still goofing off in the kitchen, Youngjae held a sigh in his mouth before propping the door open and proceeding to drag each of his six boxes inside, followed by his extra, un-boxed belongings.

Neither the two in the kitchen nor the boy in the other room offered to help at any point in time.

When Youngjae was finally finished, he returned to the kitchen, abandoning his quest to socialize and instead trying to locate something to clean the soap spill with.

"Paper towels?" Youngjae asked after poking around for a moment, and the shorter of the two pointed to the cabinet under the sink.

"Don't just point, grab him some, you idiot," the taller one said, rolling his eyes. "You're the one who threw the soap anyway!"

"I didn't throw it, it slipped! And they're closer to him than me!"

They weren't actually, but Youngjae found them and left the kitchen, his arms and legs sore from all the lifting, and he used the paper towels to wipe off the box before opening the flaps to check for internal damage.

Youngjae bit his lip as he discovered that the picture on top, one without a frame, was now damp, most likely permanently ruined. It had been one of his favorite pictures, one with just him, his mom, and his dad instead of their whole family. Youngjae had brought it with him to remind him of his parents, who loved him so much and had worked so hard to help him get where he was now.

The thought of the ruined picture brought tears to Youngjae's eyes, but he just bit his lip, setting it off to the side and feeling slightly relieved when he noticed that all of the other pictures were fine.

_It was just an accident, after all._

_One they didn't really apologize for, but it was an accident_ _nonetheless_ _._

Youngjae closed his eyes and squeezed them together to get rid of any tears that had been trying to form before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

He stood by the sink for a few moments before the two boys quieted down and turned to look at him.

"Hi, I'm Youngjae," he said, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right foot.

There was a beat of silence before the taller one's eyes lit up with recognition. "OH! You're our fourth roommate, right? The one from Mokpo?"

Youngjae paused before nodding to what seemed like an extremely obvious fact.

"Sweet, nice to meet you, I'm-"

"Jinyoung," the shorter boy interrupted, sticking out a hand, and Youngjae shook it, his grip somewhat weak.

The taller boy scoffed and pushed Jinyoung out of the way. "I'm Jaebum. Nice to meet you, Young...Youngchae, you said?"

"Youngjae," Youngjae corrected, biting the inside of his mouth.

"Oh, sorry," Jaebum said, rubbing the back of his neck. Awkward silence descended over the kitchen for a moment until Jinyoung spoke up.

"Okay, Youngjae, who do you think is taller, me or JB?"

Youngjae assumed that JB must be Jaebum's nickname, and he cast a quick glance at said boy. "Um, J...Jaebum, I guess," he said, unsure if he had been given permission to call him by his nickname or if that was for friends only. Youngjae didn't feel like they were friends, not yet, at least.

"See?" Jaebum said, laughing, and Jinyoung growled at him.

"WE ARE THE SAME HEIGHT! WHY DOES EVERYONE SAY-"

Youngjae sighed and left the kitchen to grab the lamp he'd left outside in the hallway, and when he came back in, Jaebum looked over.

"Oh, hey, Youngjae, do you want help with that?"

Youngjae stared at him. He had...no words...and yet so many words that he shouldn't say.

_No, I don't need help carrying a single lamp. Yes, I could have used help moving everything upstairs and then from the hallway into my room, but did you offer any help then?_

"No thanks," he said simply, placing the lamp in his room and pausing. He had three options at this point: unpack his belongings, try to socialize a bit more with the two in the kitchen, or meet his third roommate.

He got halfway through his box of clothing before he turned and went to the third roommate's door, feeling somewhat guilty for not introducing himself earlier.

"Hello, I'm-"

"Did you knock?" came the voice from inside, and even though the door was partially open, Youngjae couldn't see him, just his back as he bent over to grab something.

"Oh, no, sorry, I-"

"I'd prefer it if people knocked before coming into my room."

"Oh, okay..." Youngjae hesitated.  _Does that mean I have to knock right now, even though he already knows I'm here?_   _But what if that just annoys him?_  Youngjae decided to just soldier on. "I'm your roommate, Choi-"

"Youngjae, I know. I heard it from here already."

"Oh. Okay..." Youngjae paused, waiting for the other boy to introduce himself or even just show his face. No such luck. "And...you are...?"

A light  _thud_  as the boy set down whatever it was that he'd been carrying and stood up, dusting his hands off as he came right up to the door, intimidating Youngjae into taking two steps back. "Mark Tuan."

"Oh, hi, Mark, nice to meet y-"

Mark closed his door in Youngjae's face.

Youngjae blinked before turning to look over at the kitchen, where Jinyoung and Jaebum (JB?) were now hitting each other with kitchen towels.

He headed back into his room, closed his door softly, and began unloading boxes.


	2. ii.

Youngjae soon found out that Jaebum ("call me JB") and Jinyoung had been friends in high school and maybe even since before that (it was still unclear to him). After a week, though, he still knew next to nothing about Mark Tuan except that he was quiet, got annoyed easily, and could be somewhat passive aggressive.

Youngjae missed Mokpo.

***

Classes started the week after move-in, and not surprisingly, Youngjae didn't have any classes with any of his roommates. Youngjae wanted to say that he honestly couldn't care less whether or not he had classes with them since they hadn't exactly welcomed him in, but it would have been nice to see at least one familiar face, considering they were the only three people he knew in the entire city.

Monday came, and Youngjae was up at 6:30 to shower and get ready for his 8 am. He'd initially worried about sharing bathroom space with his roommate (Mark), but he needn't have worried. Between JB, Jinyoung, and Mark, none of them had a single class before 10 am.

They also apparently didn't sleep before 2 am, leaving Youngjae to toss and turn from 10:30 til 2 until they stopped playing loud music, songs Youngjae had never heard before.

He just felt so out of place. He knew that there had to be another student somewhere in the dorm feeling just like him - lonely, young, anxious - but he had yet to meet anyone else like himself. He wanted to call back home, but his parents had gently but firmly warned him to get through his first week alone before contacting them because "being nervous about living away from home was a natural experience and had to be worked through".

Youngjae thought that crying was a natural experience as well, but he was trying to survive a week without doing that, either.

***

By the end of the first day, he was ready for a nice, long cry.

He'd taken the wrong campus bus and had been stuck on a half-hour loop in the wrong direction, resulting in him missing his 8 am class, and when he got to his 10 am, already feeling like he'd trade his nonexistent diploma for a train ticket back to Mokpo, he was informed that the class' professor had been forced to take an unexpected leave of absence, and the professor that was filling in would be using a different textbook than the one students had been told to order, which meant that Youngjae would have to find a way to refund and return his current textbook (the one weighing down his backpack like two bricks wrapped together) before ordering the correct one.

At lunch, he figured out how to use his student ID to purchase a meal on campus (only after embarrassing himself slightly in front of the employee and holding up the line). He sat alone and waited for his third and last class of the day, which went all right compared to the other two, but after the morning he'd had...

He just felt so stupid. He didn't know anything about how college worked. He knew there was an online orientation for new students to help them learn about how to use their ID's and laundry cards and all sorts of information about what was on campus, but Youngjae had been too busy unpacking and finding out where his classes were to watch it.

_Tonight,_  he told himself. He didn't want to feel so ignorant anymore. If he was going to be alone for the majority of his college experience, then he at least wanted to know what he was doing.

Although he was already growing tired of the whole being-alone thing, too. It would be nice to have a friend. He didn't need a lot, but...one would be nice...

***

He got back to his dorm to find Mark by himself, the other two out for classes or food or just to find something fun to do. Youngjae hadn't been invited, of course. Another accident, he was sure.

"Hi," Youngjae said, swallowing as he noticed Mark sprawled across the couch. "How was your first day?"

Mark's eyes flicked up at Youngjae in annoyance, and it was only then that Youngjae realized that he'd been trying to nap on the couch. "So loud," he muttered, getting up and going into his bedroom, shutting the door harder than he needed to.

Youngjae bit his lip, feeling the tears well in his eyes. He fumbled his phone out of his backpack as he entered his own room, shutting the door and curling up on his bed in the corner, hugging his knees to his chest as he dialed one of the only numbers stored on his phone. With each ring, he tightened his grip on his knees, trying to breathe deeply in and out, trying to just feel okay for  _one second_ -

"Hello?"

"Mom? Dad?" Youngjae immediately replied, feeling any composure he'd been working to maintain immediately slip away from him.

"Youngjae!" his mom's voice came from the other end of the phone before she remembered to turn down her enthusiasm a bit. "JaeJae, sweetie, how are you doing? How's college going? Is everything all right? You're all moved in, right? Did you forget anything? And you had classes today, right? How was that? Do you like your professors?"

Youngjae breathed out a laugh that just as easily could have been a sob. "Everything's great, Mom, I..." He didn't know what to say. He hadn't needed to lie to his mom in the last...he couldn't remember how long. He was a good kid, and he loved and respected his parents. But...he didn't want to worry them. "College is...an adjustment," he said, swallowing. "But...I think I'm going to like it," he finished unsteadily, his voice cracking slightly, and he hoped she didn't notice it.

"You're going to have such a great time," she promised him, and he could see her in his mind at the kitchen counter, phone cord wrapped around her right arm, elbow planted down as she leaned over to talk into the phone, giving it her full attention. "You're going to meet so many people and make so many friends! And I just know that everybody's going to love you because you're just the sweetest boy in the world - but don't tell your brother I said that or he'll think I'm playing favorites." A sigh from the other end. "Oh, but Youngjae, you're going to have such a great time..."

"I know, Mom," Youngjae said, biting his lip as he squirmed further into the corner of his already small room.

"You just have to get out there. Make sure you go and talk to people, okay? Everybody else is a little nervous too, and they just need someone to walk up to them and smile and introduce themselves..."

She trailed on a bit, and Youngjae felt bad for letting his mind wander, but all he could remember in that moment was when he had gone up to Mark to introduce himself and had earned himself a face full of door.

"Youngjae?"

Youngjae swallowed. "Yes, Mom?"

"You know that I love you so, so, so much, right?"

"I know Mom," Youngjae said, feeling her words warm up his heart and soul as a smile made its way onto his lips.

"Good." Her voice sounded a little wobbly, and Youngjae had to wonder if she was trying not to cry. That would make two of them. "Do you- do you want to talk to your father?"

"Yes please," Youngjae said, wiping his eyes as the phone filled with static and the shuffling of feet.

"Youngjae?"

Youngjae swallowed once more, the familiar voice of his dad hitting him hard. "H-Hi Dad."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm..." It was a lot harder lying to his dad than his mom, mainly because Youngjae felt that it was his duty to protect his mother from worrying excessively over his health and well being. "It's...a bit rough..."

"I know it's hard," his dad said, his voice a bit gruff the way it got when his dad became emotional but tried to ignore it. "But you'll get used to it. It'll get easier every day. Soon, you'll forget that we even exist."

"No, I would never forget about you guys," Youngjae said, a sad smile on his face, and he imagined his dad grimacing, trying not to let on how much he loved Youngjae and instead trying to let Youngjae earn his independence, even if it took Youngjae away from them.

The thought of leaving his parents and his parents being forced to accept it caused the tears in Youngjae's eyes to fall, although he wiped at them quickly, not that his parents could see them.

"It's okay, we understand," his dad said nonetheless. "Don't feel like you have to call us all the time. We want you to work hard but have a little fun too, okay? There's clubs and things. I'm sure you'll find something to do."

"Yeah," Youngjae said, trying to avoid saying to much to let on that he was crying.

"But promise me that you won't just stay in your room all the time," came a stern warning from the other end of the phone, startling a laugh out of Youngjae. "Video games aren't the same as people, Youngjae."

"I brought books," Youngjae said instead, smiling despite his wet cheeks.

"Fictional characters can't talk back to you. Go out and talk to real human beings."

"But- if I talk to real people, I can't just close the moment and walk away like I can in a book," Youngjae sputtered, and his dad's deep laugh rumbled over the phone.

"Exactly. Life isn't a book, JaeJae," his dad said, his voice growing softer as he delivered a little bit of wisdom to his son. "You can't just start and stop when you choose. You can't put a bookmark in and call it quits for the day, and you don't always get to be the main character who wins everything in the end." His dad paused, swallowing, and his voice grew rough again. Youngjae knew he was going to hang up soon. "Work hard, Youngjae. We're proud of you."

It was his dad's way of saying  _I love you_ when the words just couldn't come.

But that didn't make Youngjae sad. He knew exactly what his dad's words meant, and to him, that was just as good as an  _I love you_ , if not better.

"I love you too, Dad," Youngjae said, tears still wet on his face as he kept listening over the phone.

Then there was a click, and the phone started beeping to let Youngjae know that he was now alone on the line, and he ended the call and cried.


	3. iii.

Life got easier like Youngjae's parents said it would. Jaebum and Jinyoung still did everything together, Mark still ignored or snapped at Youngjae, and Youngjae still occasionally took the wrong bus across campus, but...

It was better. Youngjae had forced himself to talk to at least one person in each of his classes, and even if they weren't really friends, they were people he could say hi to.  _And maybe if I say "hi" enough, we'll become friends,_  he reasoned. Or maybe it didn't work like that. Either way, he hadn't made any close friends, but it didn't seem like he needed to. He was getting along just fine.

He woke up before all of his roommates and was gone before any of them awoke. He went to all of his classes, studying on his breaks or when he got food, and then he was on his way to the next class. In the evenings, he would come home, cook himself dinner for one, and retreat to his room to do homework and read a little bit. Then he would go to sleep at a reasonable hour, ignoring all sound from outside his room, and would prepare to wake up early in the morning.

College was fun.

He was having a great time.

He was happy.

...

To be more truthful, college was a lot of work, he didn't know what type of time he was having because he was always busy with work for his classes, and he didn't know how to define happiness anymore. Back home, it had been easy. Happiness was the default. He had been surrounded by people who loved him, who enjoyed spending time with him, who enjoyed seeing his face and talking to him about what was going on in his life. That was his idea of happiness. But now...now those safe comforts had been stripped away. He was on his own. The life he'd loved, a life populated by relationships with people he cared about, had dwindled to a life where he felt caged inside his own skull.

But it was necessary, he convinced himself over and over. It was part of growing up, of becoming his own person.

But still, it was weird to sleep and only hear his own breathing and not his brother's soft exhalations filling the space he called his room.

***

"-jae? Hey, were you listening?"

Youngjae blinked as fingers were snapped in front of his eyes, and he looked up to see Jinyoung leaning forward with an annoyed expression on his face, Jaebum standing behind him and watching with a neutral expression.

"Did you hear me?" Jinyoung asked, standing up straight and putting a hand on his hip.

"Ah, sorry, I must have been spacing-"

"We're going out," Jinyoung announced, cutting Youngjae off, who just swallowed the rest of his sentence, used to being ignored.

"Okay," Youngjae said. This was somewhat strange since they never really bothered to inform him of their comings and goings, but maybe it was because he'd been sitting on the couch in their common area, just taking a moment to think about things.

Jaebum, from behind Jinyoung, huffed and pushed his friend out of the way, giving him a nasty look before turning back toward Youngjae with a strained smile. Youngjae got the feeling like Jaebum didn't waste time and facial muscles smiling very often, and while Youngjae felt that he had good intentions, it seemed to him as though Jaebum was out of practice. "Do you want to come with us?" Jaebum asked, the first time he'd ever asked Youngjae that question (still likely only because Youngjae was an object in sight).

Youngjae's eyes slid over to Jinyoung, expecting to see the other boy glaring at him from behind Jaebum's back and hinting that he should decline, but Jinyoung just had a bored look on his face as his eyes darted downward to check the time on his phone. Youngjae looked back at Jaebum, who was still waiting for his answer. "Um...that's...where are you going?" he asked. He couldn't outright decline, that would be rude, but he was sure he'd be able to come up with an excuse given a location. They didn't actually want him to come with, did they?

"There's a place near campus. We were going to go over and have a few drinks. It's within walking distance," Jaebum said, relaxing his smile a bit so it appeared more neutral and less painful for him to retain.

"Ah," Youngjae said, still trying to figure out a way to politely decline. It was Friday night; if he said he needed to stay home and study, they'd all think he was a nerd (which he admittedly was) and probably would never invite him out again. His pending decision was made altogether more difficult by the location; if they'd said they were planning on going to a club, that was perfect, Youngjae could just say that he couldn't dance and he'd be off the hook. But he hadn't had a drink in a while, and the offer was starting to sound more tempting by the second. But was a drink really worth third-wheeling his roommates all night?

"Hey, Mark!" Jinyoung yelled, looking over at the closed door from which grumbling immediately ensued. "Get your ass out here, we're going to leave soon and you'll make us late."

Jaebum noticed Youngjae's surprised and quickly explained, "We just, um, we figured that we should all hang out a bit more...we don't really know each other that well and we'll be living together for the whole year so..." Jaebum rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. "Sorry it took so long...I know we've already had a few weeks of school and this is a weird time to ask, but we were hoping you and Mark would both be free..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry, I know you're always super busy with classes and everything and I totally get it if you need to stay home and st-"

"I'll come," Youngjae said, surprising himself by failing to jump on the excuse Jaebum had readily provided him. Although he was pleased that Jaebum seemed to take into consideration how hard he was working without making Youngjae sound like he was a completely anti-social bookworm who only knew textbooks and nothing else.

Jaebum's surprise mirrored Youngjae's, his eyebrow shooting up comically before a smile slowly wriggled onto his lips. "That's- that's great! We were going to leave in, uh-" He turned to his friend. "When are we leaving, Jinyoung?"

Jinyoung looked up sassily, flipping his hair out of his face as he leveled his eyes on Jaebum's. "As soon as they throw on pants," he responded, and Youngjae's eyes widened.

"But, I'm already-"

"Those aren't pants," Jinyoung immediately replied, cutting him off (again), giving Youngjae a quick once-over. "I'm talking skinny jeans. I get that you're old-fashioned, but if you ever want to get a girlfriend, all the chicks from the last century are already dead, so throwing on some skinny jeans and Converse is your best bet." Jinyoung pulled a protesting Youngjae off the couch and shoved him toward his room. "Hurry up, Youngjae. I want to leave as soon as possible."

"Relax," came Jaebum's low voice. "You're going to make him not want to come..."

Their voices trailed off as Youngjae closed his door and spent the next five minutes hopping into a pair of skinny jeans. He grabbed his favorite Supreme sweatshirt and slid on a pair of shoes before stepping out of his room just as Mark stepped out of his room, looking over at Youngjae before changing his glance toward Jinyoung.

"Are we ready to go?" Mark asked. His face was blank. As usual, Youngjae had no idea what he was thinking, if he was excited, or if he was secretly killing each of them over and over again in his head.

He wondered how Mark was killing him.

"Finally," Jinyoung said with a melodramatic sigh.

Jaebum just muttered apologies for him as they all went to the door and proceeded to walk to the bar.

"I bet I can out-drink all of you," Jinyoung boasted, punching Jaebum lightly on the shoulder. "You especially. Remember last time-"

"Yes, I remember last time," Jaebum said quickly to shut him up, his cheeks growing pink at the thought of a memory Youngjae wasn't a part of. The two of them, Jinyoung and Jaebum, walked ahead while Youngjae and Mark walked behind them, side by side, and not necessarily by choice.

"How...how was your week?" Youngjae asked, his voice coming out soft. He still remembered Mark saying that he had a loud voice, and he wasn't sure if Mark had only said that because Youngjae had woken him up from a nap, or if Mark really thought that Youngjae was too loud. Either way, he didn't want to risk upsetting the other male.

Mark turned to look at him with a  _you're starting this type of bullshit?_  face before exhaling and rolling his eyes. "It was fine."

"Oh, that's nice," Youngjae said when he realized that Mark wouldn't be asking him back. Not that he had anything different to say. He didn't want to ramble on about himself when Mark wouldn't speak four words to him, and he honestly didn't think Mark would care if a car swerved out of the right lane and took Youngjae with it on the windshield.

The walk to the bar, approximately twenty minutes, passed in silence between the back two males while Jinyoung made fun of Jaebum periodically, Jaebum somehow resisting the urge to throw Jinyoung in traffic.

The four settled into a corner booth, and once again, Jinyoung spoke up as he crossed his arms, leaning over the table with a dare in his eyes.

"Last one sober wins!"

***

So, it was 1:36 AM, and Youngjae was surrounded by three drunk college kids, and the bar closed at 2 AM, so...

He was currently trying to remember which Disney song Jinyoung and Jaebum had started singing. He wanted to say it was something from Frozen, but maybe it had happened multiple times because he clearly remembered them singing the lyrics "Zero to hero just like that" from Hercules.

As for Mark, he'd gotten quieter and quieter until a point where he'd stopped getting quiet and instead was the loudest one at the table, laughing too hard at what may have been jokes or were maybe just declarative sentences before banging his hand on the table. At one point, he'd draped his arm across Youngjae's shoulder while laughing hysterically at something Jinyoung had said, and Youngjae, not knowing what to do or how to respond to this level of physical contact with a person he was pretty sure hated him one hundred percent, just left the arm where it was and took another sip of alcohol.

Time crept forward while the buzz in Youngjae's veins faded. He handled his alcohol better than his roommates for sure, but he'd also stopped drinking about an hour ago, which was when he'd realized that it was up to him to get the four of them home safely.

His tongue suddenly felt altogether too large in his mouth, and he could feel the saliva pooling against the roof of his mouth as he paused in his thoughts. When had he begun to think of their dorm room as  _home?_

He didn't have much time to process his latest revelation, however, as the bartender had been sending less and less subtle glances over their way, looking pointedly at Youngjae, the only one out of the four who wasn't passed out or leaning heavily on the table.

Youngjae, realizing that delaying action wasn't going to make time stop indefinitely, finally huffed and climbed over Mark to escape the booth before turning back to view his roommates from a more objective angle.

Jinyoung's head was resting on Jaebum's shoulder, his eyes shut but fluttering open every now and then as an incoherent word rolled off his lips. Jaebum, meanwhile, had relaxed back into the booth, a natural, relaxed smile gracing his face. Mark was sprawled across the table, his outstretched fingers twitching as though he were expecting someone to place another bottle in them. Nope. Absolutely not going to happen.

Youngjae turned aside and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He didn't know anyone he could call for a ride, and piggybacking all three of his roommates was too big a task for him to handle, so his only option was the dreaded one: Uber.

He scheduled a ride and spent the next ten minutes dragging his intoxicated roommates out of the booth and to the bench in front of the bar one by one. Then as his scheduled lift pulled up, he hefted them into the car or, in Jaebum's case, just provided a steady hand, helping the other into the car. After cramming the three of them in the back, he took the passenger seat, and after paying the driver upon reaching their destination, repeated the reverse process of getting everyone out.

Thankfully, by that time, Jaebum was steady enough to support Jinyoung, who was still only barely conscious, leaving Mark for Youngjae, who supported the taller boy as they rode the elevator up (because no way was Youngjae taking the stairs with an unconscious body resting on him).

Youngjae deposited Mark on his bed, mumbling a quiet "pardon the intrusion" upon entering Mark's bedroom (without knocking). Then Youngjae exited Mark's room, closing the door behind him, and turned toward his own room to be surprised by Jaebum leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Thank you, Youngjae," Jaebum said, his words slurring together as he slowly sounded the syllables out.

Youngjae just gave him a tired smile. "Uh huh."

"I'm sorry," Jaebum said out of nowhere just as Youngjae had turned.

Youngjae looked back at Jaebum. "For what?" he asked.

For leaving Youngjae to get them all home?

For making Youngjae pay for their transportation?

For dragging Youngjae out in the first place?

Or was it deeper than that? Sorry for not including Youngjae, for not helping him move in, for not making him feel welcome, for leaving him to figure out everything by himself?

But Youngjae wouldn't figure out that mystery, not tonight at least, because Jaebum seemed to have made a pillow out of the counter. Youngjae  _could_  try dragging Jaebum into his room.

Or Youngjae could leave him to wake up to a faceful of couter in the morning.

Youngjae smiled and went to his own room, closing the door, throwing off clothes that reeked of alcohol, and flipping off the lights as he flopped into bed.

It was the first time Youngjae had felt accepted here.

**Author's Note:**

> Please support my search for happiness: ko-fi.com/nobodyimportant


End file.
